Morgan
Just who in the hell did this kid think he was?
Gorgeous, sexy, and adorably pumped up with his big plans, but still, just who the hell did he think he was?
Waltzed right in and started telling me all the ways Piping Hot could be better once he was the owner.
What the hell ever.
I wanted Piping Hot.
I needed Piping Hot.
Granted, I’d only been in Briarton just a bit over six months, and there was still a lot I wanted to do with the little coffee shop once I owned it. But I’d already made improvements as the manager and I had a lot more in the works.
In truth, some of Justin’s plans sounded really great, but it wasn’t like I wouldn’t have been able to come up with most of those on my own. Okay, I wasn’t a baker so he had me on that point, but the rest was definitely doable.
After my husband had died of a massive heart attack a couple years earlier, I’d doubled down in my high-stress corporate finance job, determined to work away the devastating loss of my best friend.
If I was so busy I couldn’t breathe, then there was no way I’d feel the pain.
Until the stress got to be too much and my doctor declared I had to stop working or I’d be following James to an early grave.
While I’d definitely felt emotionally and physically dead after years and years in that job, I didn’t want to die. James never would have wanted me working myself to death. So, I’d quit my job, packed up my empty apartment, and threw a dart at a map.
Okay, in reality, I’d closed my eyes and pointed to a map—I didn’t have darts just lying around my house—but the idea was the same.
My finger landed on Briarton, smackdab in the middle of the Midwest. I kept most of my money in my New York bank accounts—everything could be done online these days—withdrew enough cash to open new accounts in my new location, donated most of my belongings to charity, and traded in my sleek BMW for a Jeep more suitable for where I was going.
I said goodbye to New York and never looked back.
The little town of Briarton had accepted the big city transplant with open arms and I’d quickly fallen in love with Piping Hot after taking a job there as a way to get to know the locals.
Money was something I had plenty of and I’d decided right away if the little coffee shop ever went up for sale, I’d snatch it up.
Not only would owning Piping Hot be a solid investment, it would be something I could pour my heart and soul into.
Losing James had been rough and I’d forever miss him, but his absence brought to light I had very little I was passionate about.
I was good at a lot of things. James and I had had a solid, comfortable relationship.
But I hadn’t felt the spark of passion and excitement about something in… well, in most of my adult life.
Piping Hot was going to change that for me. I already felt a connection to the place and I wanted to devote time and energy into making it the best little coffee shop in the Midwest.
Jo Ellen Lucas, the owner of the entire building, had slowly been renting out the businesses and spaces within. She’d stated she’d own the actual building until the day she died, but she planned to rent or sell many of the businesses housed in the building.
And I wanted Piping Hot.
Apparently, so did Justin Wade.
The very young, very attractive grandson of Harley Wade.
Harley and Jo were about as mismatched as a couple could be, but something definitely kept them coming back to each other. They’d not been dating long, but the flirting had been obvious even back when I came to town.
How was I going to compete with the eager young business major and baker when he had such a great plan and his grandpa was dating the seller?
Smirking at his confusion—I’d known the moment he started his pitch he mistakenly thought I was the owner—and wondered if he’d recover.
Who was I kidding? The kid seemed invincible. Of course, he’d recover.
And he did.
But not before I saw the flustered flush on his cheeks from the quick wink I gave him. He teetered and tottered, but quickly regained his footing.
“Well, as I was telling Morgan, I have some great plans for Piping Hot. As I’m sure Harley has told you, I’m a very talented baker.” Justin launched into his business plan as if his speech to me had just been his warm-up.
By the end, Jo Ellen was beaming. “Well, those sound like fabulous ideas, dear.”
Harley patted Justin’s arm.
“Morgan, I know you’d been toying with many of the same changes and upgrades,” Jo said.
“I’m in quite the predicament. You both seem like you’d be the perfect owners and I know Piping Hot would be in great hands with either of you.
” She sipped her coffee and eyed us over the mug. “My issue comes down to family.”
My heart sank. There it was. The kid was going to swoop in and take what I wanted simply because he was Harley’s grandson.
I adored the older man and I was getting used to Jo Ellen’s quirks. But damned if it didn’t sting to have my hopes dashed.
“If you boys have done any kind of research on the other businesses in my building,” Jo continued, “you already know I’ve made it my mission to ensure a family-owned theme within my building.
If I can’t assure a downhome, stable, loving, welcoming feel with family-owned businesses, I won’t be selling off sections within my building. It’s as simple as that.”
Justin tossed a smug look my way. “Nothing more family-oriented than the grandson of the town’s beloved pediatrician owning the comfy cozy coffee shop.”
Jo chuckled. “Well, yes, but family-owned by association isn’t exactly the feel I’m looking for.” She pursed her lips and studied me. “Morgan, you’ve become a truly valued member of this town…” she trailed off.
“Jo, dear, if the men can assure a family-owned feel, perhaps an exception could be made?” Harley suggested.
“Nonsense,” Jo said as she patted Harley’s hand. “I’m not in need of selling parcels within my building. If Piping Hot is to be bought, it will be bought by family, run by family, and presented as family. If not, it won’t be sold.”
I knew enough about Jo Ellen’s opinionated oddities to understand she wouldn’t be budging from her stance on this.
Harley frowned—clearly knowing his girlfriend well enough to know she was set on the issue—and glanced between Justin and me. “Well, boys, unless you’re secretly planning to tie the knot and co-own a coffee shop, I think you’re out of luck.”
I could see the sorrow in the older man’s eyes. He’d been so excited about Justin moving to Briarton. If the kid didn’t get the coffee shop, would he leave town?
As if my life had turned into a slow-motion gag reel, I realized with a shock Justin had reached for my hand. When my brain finally registered the warmth of his strong hand holding mine, I dragged my eyes to his determined face and tried to comprehend his words.
“My apologies, Ms. Lucas,” he started.
“Nonsense, call me Jo.”
“Jo,” Justin amended. “I’ve been in the city too long and private family life was never expected to be a part of business. Seeing as how I’m adjusting to my new life in Briarton, I’ll have to learn my private family life is valued here.”
He brought my hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over the knuckles—soft, pink lips sending warmth through me. What in the hell was happening?
Harley cleared his throat, evidently as confused as I was. “Justin, son?”
“Grandpa, Jo, I wasn’t planning on telling you this way, but Morgan and I are engaged.”